


Le Ange

by garytehsnail



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:24:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garytehsnail/pseuds/garytehsnail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Destiel </p><p>- Restaurant AU</p><p>*Summary WIP*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Blue-Eyed Angel

**Chapter 1 - The Blue-Eyed Angel**

A warm blast of air greeted Dean as the receptionist ushered him through the sleek mahogany doors of Le Ange, one of the classiest French restaurants found in the state.

“This way sir,” the suited man led him through the evening crowd, an extended arm acting as a compass guiding him through the sea of heads and limbs.

His table was cozily tucked into a dark corner of the restaurant, shielded from the attention and endless chatter of the patrons. Dean Winchester wasn't an introverted guy in any sense, he just couldn't find anything in this restaurant that was more interesting than the food.

Except...

“Good evening, sir,” the waiter greeted him. He wore a simple black vest and suit pants with a white button up shirt. However, the most outstanding part of his outfit was the blue silk tie that complemented his icy blue eyes perfectly. Dean's eyes traced the delicate outlines of his arms up to his shoulders, appreciating the man's lean yet firm build. He caught a glimpse of the man's silver name tag.

_Castiel._

Dean let the name seep for another moment in his mind before turning his attention back to the menu in front of his face.

“May I recommend our special for tonight?” Castiel suggested, bending over to fill up his empty glass, the light brush of his tie left a tingling sensation on the back of Dean's hand.

“Which is?” Dean pulled his hand back and ghosted his fingers over the tingling spot.

“Ange's signature lobster bisque, sir,” the waiter replied promptly, flashing a casual smile at him.

“I'll have that then... and-”

“The house wine and our bread appetizer?” Castiel interjected before Dean could continue his order. _Wait a minute, how did he know what I order every time, did I miss something?_ Dean swallowed the shock and nodded. “Yes, uh... yes that would be good.”

“Coming right up, sir.” He collected the menu and gave Dean a final nod of acknowledgement before turning away with his order.

Dean took a sip of his water, the bland taste did nothing to help him tap into the reserves of his ever-terrible short term memory. He was pretty sure that he hasn't seen the waiter before, but still, it wouldn't hurt to ask. The smooth jazz playing in the background provided just enough entertainment until Castiel returned with the basket of bread. Dean's fingers were drumming softly against the table, following the rhythm of the music.

“Your appetizer, sir.” he said, carefully placing the basket in front of Dean.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need anything else?” he inquired, his eyes were locked against Dean's, an odd sense of warmth started travelling down south, accompanied by shivers in it's wake.

“Just a question.” Dean raised his forefinger.

“Happy to oblige.”

“Are you... new here? I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you before.”

Castiel chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. Dean's body, especially the lower portion, shifted slightly at the gesture. It had been a long time since anybody could make Dean Winchester act like a teenage girl in front of her highschool crush. Completely, and utterly, charmed.

“Yes sir, I'm new,” he nodded.  “Today is my first day on the job,” he added.

“Dean. Call me Dean.” Dean said, holding out his right hand.

Castiel took his hand and they exchanged a quick, polite, handshake. Dean's hand lingered just a second longer on his, it was soft yet firm and they fit perfectly with one another like a lock with its key. “Please to be of your acquaintance, Dean.”

“You were asking?” Castiel said, pulling the derailed topic back into its path.

“So, you're new here.”

“Yes.”

“How did you know my usuals?”

“My boss told me. Apparently you are a regular here, Dean.” He said matter-of-factly.

“It's just Thursdays.”

“What a coincidence then, my parents named me after the Angel of Thursday.”

“I can see why.” Dean replied with a wink. The dim lighting of the restaurant was probably messing with his eyesight because he could swear that he saw Castiel blush.

Castiel cleared his throat and straightened his tie before continuing, “is there anything else that I can help you with?”

“Nothing urgent at the moment, thanks.”

And with a blink of an eye, Castiel was back at work. Dean held a piece of bread in his mouth as he watched the slender form dart between the tables, in and out of the kitchen like a balet dancer, performing his routine with a cloth instead of ribbon, with trays instead of tutus.

The piece of bread hung loosely on the edge of his mouth fell, the splatter of olive oil snapped him out of the spell. “Damnit, I liked this shirt,” he muttered to himself as Castiel returned with the main course.

“You okay? There's some-” He pointed at Dean's chest.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine, just a little accident.” _And it's your fault._ “I'll be fine.”

“You... sure?” he asked again, brows furrowing.

“Yes I'm sure, thanks.” Dean plastered on a smile and waved him away.

The rest of the night went by quickly, with only a few more glances exchanged between them and Dean almost tripping over a waiter on his way to the washroom- he didn't bother to look at where he was going because his attention was focused on Castiel adjusting the straps of his suspenders.

“Would you like dessert?” Castiel returned with a clean plate and another pitcher of water.

“I think I'm good.” Dean slumped a little back onto the seat, patting his stomach.

“We have angel food pie, it's-” “I'll take a whole.” Dean interrupted his suggestion, nothing stands between Dean and his pies, not even that high fructose corn syrup crap or whatever Sam repeatedly warned him about.

 When Dean Winchester wants pie, he will have pie.

“A whole as in... a whole portion?” Castiel pursed his lips, eyes widening a little.

 “A whole as in one whole pie.” Dean corrected him, smirking.

“Okay... one moment please.” He scurried back through the kitchen doors, coming back with a whole cream-filled pie which sat majestically on his silver tray. It was conveniently cut into eight equal slices, a wasted effort if you asked Dean- he'd just wolf down the whole thing if it wasn't for the public scrutiny. Dean caught Castiel stealing glimpses from the table across of him as he (barely) ate his pie in a (convincingly) civil manner, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

The dessert spoon was still dangling from his lips as Castiel approached the table again. “Is there a problem?” He asked, Dean's gaze was still on him. “... with the pie?” He waved his arm in front of Dean's face. “Hello?”

“U-uh.. what- uh yes I'm fine.” Dean answered, shaking the infatuation out of his head. “I'll have the bill and takeout for the rest of the pie, thanks,” he continued.

And with a swoop of his arms, Castiel was gone with the pie, the set of doors swung back and forth in tandem as he plunged into the kitchen and reemerged with a box in his right hand and the bill on the other. The handle of the box was delicately designed to resemble the wings of an angel, which was fitting, according to the restaurant's theme.

“Your pie, and your bill.” was the last thing he said before leaving the table, a grin threatening to surface.

Dean stuffed enough notes to cover his meal and left a big tip for the blue-eyed waiter, fifty percent was rare from Dean- _but it was worth it_ \- he thought.

With the memories of the night seared into his mind, he left the restaurant smiling like what uncle Bobby would've called an idjit.

 

 

  
                      *****

“Dean, you're smiling.” Sam said, snapping Dean out of his reverie.  He was doing nothing but staring out of the window and repeatedly tracing the outlines on the handle of the cardboard box since he got back from the dinner.

“W-what?” He jumped a little at Sam's voice.

“You are seriously out of it, what did they put in your food?” Sam teased him, showing off his signature bitchface- a term coined by Dean in their childhood years.

“I'm fine, Sammy.”

“Uh, no you're not.” He gestured towards Dean. “I mean look at you. The Dean I know doesn't sit in front of a window staring into God-Knows-Where in the middle of the night.”

“Is it a girl?” Sam asked again, refusing to let go of the topic, he liked messing with Dean, a lot, especially when he's vulnerable like this, the chances of this ever happening were almost as rare as a unicorn appearing on their doorstep.  
  
Dean shook his head and carded his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath in the process.

“If you're not gonna tell me, then-” Sam leapt forward, snatching the box from Dean's hands, “- I'll just find out for myself.”

“Sam! Give it back, now!” Dean lashed out, grabbing for Sam's arm but to no avail, he had a natural height advantage. Dean had to jump to barely reach the box in his hand.

_Fuck the gene lottery._

“Hey, who's Castiel?” The question came out of the blue, hitting Dean straight in the face.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Sam's hand was still on his face, keeping him away. Sam opened the box with his free fingers and pulled out a piece of paper.

 “Oh really, - **To the world's biggest flirt, Dean. Enjoy your pie**.-” he read it out, loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood.

“Sam! Shut up-” Dean cupped his brother's mouth like a knee jerk reaction, “- the neighbors will hear us.”

“So, you're strictly into dick now?” Sam muttered against his palm, he had to hold back a chuckle at the last two words. “Anna and Lisa wasn't that bad, was it?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, plus-”

“You had a thing with Benny, right?” Sam cut him off again.

“No, can you let me talk now?” Dean caught a quick breath. “Yours truly is not into any dicks at the moment, and my personal life is non of your bitch-ass' business.” he scowled at his brother, snatching the box from Sam's hands while he was distracted.

“Jerk.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

Sam pouted his lips and made a kissing sound, “Castiel.”

“You're so fucking dead if I catch you.”


	2. After Dark

** Chapter 2 - After Dark **

 

The winter cold bit into Castiel's skin as he closed the staff entrance, leaving yet another day of work behind him.

 

Today was Thursday, or as Castiel liked to call it- Dean Day. He couldn't help but wonder if Dean had gotten more charming every week or he was just falling deeper and deeper into the pit that is Dean Winchester. Castiel could swear that those green eyes adorning Dean's face had their own gravity, or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

 _Falling for a customer, how unprofessional_ , he thought.

He pulled his coat closer to his body as another gust of cold wind hit him in the chest. With a flick of his wrist, he checked the time- almost midnight.

The parking lot outside the restaurant was empty except for a black 67's Chevrolet Impala parked right in the center, illuminated by the sole lamp post that stood in the darkness. A figure was leaning against the driver's door, humming something muffled by the howling wind.

“Hello?” He called out into the distance. The man jumped a little at the sound of Castiel's voice.

The man turned around, it was Dean.

Dean.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asked, stepping closer to the car.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just waiting.”

“For?”

“You.” Dean nodded towards Castiel, he was pretty sure his heart just skipped a beat, maybe two, who's counting?  “Figured you might want a ride home?” Dean offered.

“I... don't know what to say.” Castiel scratched the back of his head and laughed softly, a sound that Dean liked to hear, that was purely one of Castiel's assumptions, considering the fact that Dean's face lit up with every chuckle he managed to coax out of him.

“ 'Thank you' seems like a good start. So you in, or not?” Dean stepped to the passenger's side and opened the door for him. Castiel nodded and stepped into the car, easing himself into the leather seat that smelled faintly of alcohol and perfume, with a hint of men's deodorant, probably Old Spice.

Dean inched in front of the steering wheel, “Where to?” he asked, steadying his grip.

“Down that road and-” Castiel was interrupted by the grumbling of his stomach.

“You had anything for dinner?” Dean asked, looking down at his gut. Castiel thought for a moment before shaking his head, he looked down as his stomach growled again.

“You wanna like... go get a burger or something?” Dean suggested.

“Sounds good actually.” Castiel said, flashing a faint smile at Dean.

“Let's roll then.”  
  
                                                                                                            ****  
  
Castiel was staring out the window with a blank expression as Dean returned with two paper bags in his hand. He must be exhausted, Dean mused, opening the door and sliding back in.

“Hey, you okay?” He handed one of the bags to Castiel and opened his own.

“Yeah- uh yeah, I was just thinking about some... things.” Castiel responded, his hands reaching into the bag for the burger. “Do you ever think about the frailty of humans? We get hungry, cold and... lonely.” He continued, plucking a piece of tomato out of the burger.

“You're... interesting, Cas. Mind if I call you Cas?”

Cas huffed out a laugh and shrugged. “If it suits your needs.” He took a bite out of his burger and hummed contentedly. “These make me very happy.” He smiled. The burger was gone in record time as Cas wolfed down the entire thing, even the scraps. Dean watched as Cas' meal transformed into nothing but empty wrappers and scrunched up bags, the bag in front of him left untouched. Cas' stomach was still unsated, protesting as the final fry entered his mouth.

“Bottomless pit you've got there.” Dean teased him, opening the second bag and tossing his burger to him. “There, have mine.”

“Turrrnks. ” Cas murmured with his mouth full and paused for a moment to swallow. “Thanks.”

“You have some-” Dean pointed at the corner of his mouth and pulled out a tissue from the bag. “There.” He wiped the blob of ketchup off Cas' face, his hand lingered for a moment longer on his chin, feeling the chiseled shape of the jawline and the slight resistance from the light stubble scattered across his face.

“Thanks.” Cas muttered. “For this, for everything.”

“Are you that touchy-feely all the time?”

“Not really. I just show gratitude where gratitude is due.” He responded, with Cas' gaze locking with his own, the distance between them steadily decreasing.

They both jumped as one of the streetlight's blew out, snapping them out of the moment.

“Son of a-” Dean grunted.

Cas was laughing breathlessly beside him, catching breaths between chuckles. Dean shook his head and jabbed the key into the ignition.

And with a twist of his fingers, they pulled out of the parking lot and drove into the night.  
                                                                                                                 
  
                                                                                                                   ***  
  
Cas jerked awake as Dean pulled up in front of his building, thankful that Dean could get the right address from the direction he slurred from the passenger's seat. Dean reached over and shook Cas lightly, “Hey, we're here,” he whispered against his ear. Cas shivered as the warm breath sent sparks down his spine. “Already?” he groaned, stifling a yawn with his sleeve.

“You need help up there?” Dean offered, Cas just nodded without saying a word. He closed his eyes for a another moment before his side of the door clicked open, another blast of cold air waking him up again. Dean wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him out of the seat, he staggered a little as hit feet hit the concrete, “Easy there, tiger.” Dean muttered, widening his stance to balance their weight.

The wooden door opened with a creak when Dean gave it a light push with his free hand, t he darkness of the small living space that Cas called home felt welcoming, enveloped in pitch black with only the faint moonlight illuminating the furniture in pale silver outlines. He pulled off his blue silk tie and folded it neatly before placing it back into the velvet box that sat on the counter near the entrance, closing the lid with a strange tenderness.

With the help of Dean, Cas eased himself onto the familiar warmth of his bedsheets with a soft smile that graced his delicate visage.

Dean ran his fingers through Cas' hair and stood up, catching a glimpse of his silver watch that glistened as the stream of light filtered through the blinds hit its surface. “I should be going, see y-”

“No.” Cas grabbed Dean's arm before he could go any further, “Stay.” With all the strength left in him, he jerked his arm and pulled Dean towards him, he tumbled forward and almost knocked over the lamp on the nightstand. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's lower back, pressing their chests together.

“Cas, I don't think this is a goo-” Dean tried to argue but was silenced by Cas' mouth on his, the warmth of Dean's breaths against the back of his throat sapping all coherent thoughts from his mind. The clash of tongue and teeth, the scrape of stubble, the rasp of their hip bones and the needy moans escaping from their maws, felt intoxicating, felt satisfying, felt... _right_.

Dean pulled away for a moment to breathe before diving back onto his collarbone, scraping his teeth along the delicate skin painted with stripes of black and white and bit down, hard enough to make him feel the forcefulness of his longing, enough to hurt but not mark the warm, pulsating mass of muscle under his teeth. “D-Dean... so... good.” Cas moaned as Dean shifted his hips again, grinding their already hard cocks together, the fabrics of their pants the only obstacles between them.

“Lose some of this.” Dean said. His hands went around the small of Cas' back and tugged at the wrinkled shirt, growing impatient as the cotton resisted the force of his pulls, releasing a breath when he finally managed to pull it over his head and flinging it onto the floor before he started working on the buttons of his own shirt.

Cas ran his fingers down Dean's bare chest, tracing the firm lines of his pecs as Dean watched, gaze full of intent with lust blazing in his eyes. “Hmmmm...”  Cas purred appreciatively, drawing small circles around Dean's nipple and squeezed, earning himself another moan of pleasure. Dean grunted and pressed his body harder onto Cas'. With his climax inching closer and closer, he sped up his pace and ground into Cas, harder and harder and harder, almost to a point where he felt needy, craving for release.  
Cas could feel his body heat up as their bodies mingled, it was probably from the friction of their flesh and the physical contact, but it was definitely better than the shitty heating system of the building.

“D-Dean... I'm... close.” He said, his fingers clawing their way into the mattress, desperately looking for something to hold on to. Dean grunted and pinned him against the bed, kissing him one more time, more forceful and demanding than the last, the movement of his hips steadily maintaining the rhythm of his thrusts. He shouted Dean's name one more time as his body twitched viciously and he moaned his release, only to be held down by his wrists, the sounds of his cries muffled to nothingness by Dean's needy mouth on his. His hands went around Dean's neck when he sped up even more, chanting his name, a prayer of pure ecstasy and instinct, bringing him nearer to the edge of his breaking point.

The sound of Dean's groans echoed into the night as he came into his boxers. He kicked off his pants along with his boxers and flopped onto Cas' body, nuzzled against the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of sweat and sex that lingered in the air between them.  “You're cuddly,” he muttered against the back of Cas' neck, adjusting the angle of his chin.

Cas rolled to his side to make room for Dean, patting the other side of the bed in invitation. “Room for two?” He offered.

Dean rolled onto his side of the bed and pulled the sheets up to cover them both with Cas' head resting on the left side of his chest.

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean chuckled and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.  “Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIL that : - Sex scenes are amazing for word count.
> 
> Cheers.

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's Notes :
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated


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